Judas
by LadyLissaLight
Summary: AU. Historical. Princess Blair is best friends with Sir Chuck, but there is more to their relationship than meets the eye. Chuck Bass loves his Princess. But when Blair finds out new information about Chuck, she will realise he may be her worst nightmare.
1. Chapter 1

**Story: **__Judas

**Author: **LadyLissaLight

**Summary: **Alternate Universe. Historical. Princess Blair is best friends with Sir Chuck, but there is more to their relationship than meets the eye. Chuck Bass loves his Princess. But when Blair finds out new information about Chuck, she will realise he may be her worst nightmare.

**I've been thinking about this story for a while. Usually I just write as I go, but I've actually pre-thought this one.**

PLEASE READ: This story IS alternate universe. Blair and Chuck are English, but this isn't precisely historical, so there will be no Kings and Queens or Dukes of history in the story, and it isn't set in an exact century, so the customs etc will be a little random.

Ok, so I hope you enjoy!

Peonies.

Lots and lots of Peonies.

Blair glanced around the room filled with the scent and blossom of her favourite flower. The curtains were open and a gentle breeze was wafting through the room, stirring the leaves on the trees outside, and washing the room with the smell of the flowers. The room was filled with vases full of the pink and white blossom, and Blair hummed to herself as she picked a vase at random and sniffed it, delighting in the delicious smell.

She ran a hand through her mahogany hair, singing to herself slowly and sweetly, as she sat in the only chair left unfilled with flowers. It was by the window, and when she looked out, craning her neck ever so slightly, she could see the fields of green, and the warm sun glowing in the sky. It was an unusually warm day, and Blair enjoyed having the windows open. Outside women were leading horses, and men –soldiers –milled around, there were few children playing, for most of them would be at their lessons, as she should be.

The door of the room opened. Blair glanced up. Entering was a tall man, with brown hair, and dimples. He had a kind face, and warm blue eyes that twinkled like pale sapphires. "Blair," he reproached gently. "You should be at your lesson. The flowers were meant for after. Your tutor will be most annoyed," his voice wasn't stern, and Blair knew he wasn't angry. He never was.

'But Daddy," she replied, smiling, "It is my birthday."

The man chuckled ever so slightly, and bending down to his daughter, kissed her lightly upon the brow. "Indeed it is, my Blair Bear, and it is the only reason I do not send you back to Margarite," he teased her, and she laughed.

"Please may I stay just a little longer?" she begged, pouting. Her father would always give her her heart's desire when she pouted. He doted on her.

Sure enough, he smiled softly and stroked his daughter's hair. "10 more minutes then. But do not let your mother catch you, for she will not be as forgiving as I," he winked as her, sharing the joke they had always had.

"Thanky-" Blair was cut off by a sharp rap on the door. Her father immediately straightened. "You may enter," he called, and a soldier came in. Blair recognized him, Captain Archibald. One of her father's closest friends. The Captain was a kind man, always joking and smiling and bringing Blair gifts. But now he looked grim and Blair looked up at him in apprehension.

"Your Majesty," he bowed shortly to Harold. "There has been some sort of attack. My men were on patrol a few leagues away when they came upon an upturned carriage. All but one inside had been slaughtered, my King."

Harold's expression turned as grim and sorrowful as the Captain's. He turned to Blair, bending down to her level. "Sweetheart, I want you to stay here, ok Princess?"

She nodded, a little scared. "Don't get hurt, Daddy," she whispered as he strode out of the room with the Captain, the door banging behind the two men as they left, one dresses in a soldier's uniform, the other in court robes.

Blair tried to concentrate on the sweetness of the Peonies, but her mind drifted towards her father. Peering out of the window, she saw a group of soldier's standing together outside a carriage, her father with them. They seemed to be discussing something. One of them, Blair thought it was the Captain, then reached inside the carriage and pulled out – a body. Blair withdrew in horror. They had brought a dead body back to the Palace! Why?

She peered out of the window again to see another man rushing towards the group – the court physician. He approached the body and appeared to look at it before making frantic gestures to those around him. Blair realised that the body could not possibly be dead, and as it was rushed inside, she left the room, curious.

Forgetting her lesson entirely, Blair hurried towards the east wing of the Palace, where the physician tended his patients. As she reached the door, a shadow drew up in front of, making her gasp.

"Princess!" It was only Margarite. Blair sighed and turned a look of great remorse on her tutor.

"Margarite, I am terribly sorry to miss my French lesson," she sighed, looking at her feet. "It's just, Father needed me."

Not to be fooled, Margarite out her hands on her formidable hips, and scowled at the young girl. "Your Highness is lyin', I know you are. Now you'll come with me and do your lesson." She grabbed Blair by the arm.

"No!" The young girl struggled to break free, trying to pull away and get to the Physician.

"I don't know why you wanna see the boy anyway," huffed Margarite. "Theys doin' surgery on him now anyway."

"Boy?" Blair stopped pulling.

"Yes," Margarite seemed pleased her charge had given up the fight, and began to tow the young girl towards the lesson room. "The poor lad. Half dead he was. I don't know how much the physician will be able to do for him," she clucked sympathetically.

"Do you know what happened Margarite?" Blair asked breathlessly as they arrived at the lesson room, in Blair's opinion, the dullest room in the Palace.

"Course I don't. Now, what is the verb of _mange_?"

Blair sighed.

Halfway through the French lesson, there came a polite knock on the door – a knock Blair knew well. "Now, who's that?" Margarite asked, annoyed at being interrupted.

"Daddy!" Blair cried, before the door was even open. Sure enough when Margarite pulled the door open, her father was standing there, looking a little tired.

"Margarite," he said, and she curtseyed low.

"Your Majesty."

"I am dreadfully sorry, but I must take Blair. Be assured she will make up for the time missed in her next lesson," Harold offered the old woman a smile, and not to Blair's surprise, she gave him a slightly crumbly one in return. There was not a soul in the Kingdom who did not love King Harold. He was the most gracious, kind man, and a wise King.

As Harold led Blair out of the room, Blair shot her hated tutor a superior smile, and the old woman glared at her.

"Blair Bear, I need you to do me a big favour," Harold helped Blair into a chair before sitting opposite her.

She watched him impassively, wondering what it was.

"The only person left alive in the carriage accident was just a boy. He only looks around your age, or maybe a year or two older. He was very sick, but luckily the physician was able to help. Now, thank heavens, the poor boy is recovering. I want you to be his friend. Maybe you could visit him in the sick room?" Harold offered her a smile, and Blair jumped up in excitement.

"I should love to father," she said solemnly, knowing that her task was important.

Approaching the east wing for the second time that day, Blair bravely entered the room where the recovering patients were kept. She edged her way among many sleeping men until she reached the end of the room, where a curtain had been put up around a singular bed.

Cautiously, Blair opened the curtain, and beheld the boy.

Her first thought was that he was absolutely beautiful.

Blair had never thought of a boy was beautiful before, but he was.

His dark hair was plastered to his sweaty forehead, and his eyes were closed, but he had a curved nose and a strong jaw with high cheekbones.

Blair drew breath slightly, and sat down in the chair beside the bed that must have been the physicians.

Her father had been right. He looked only around 6 or 7, at a stretch 8.

She reached towards him slowly, and smoothed back his hair from his forehead. As she did, his eyes flew open, and she lurched back, gasping.

The boy sat u, his eyes darting around wildly. They were a deep black. "Where am I?" He demanded rudely of Blair, and her first thought was that he was arrogant.

"You are in the presence of the Princess of England," she said coolly. "You are in our Palace. We rescued you from your carriage accident."

The boy was staring at her. Then he offered her a small smile. "I'm... Charles. I think." He looked confused. "Yes, I must be... Charles Bass."

"It's lovely to meet you Charles," she said solemnly. "I am Blair." She held out her hand and he kissed it softly, making her smile.

"So... You're the Princess of England?" he inquired.

She nodded. "Yes I am."

"And how did I get to be so blessed as to have the Princess nursing me at my bedside?" He grinned slightly at her.

"You mean you don't remember what happened?" She frowned. "You were in a dreadful accident!"

Charles looked momentarily pained, as if he were struggling with a memory. "No, I don't remember." He said finally. "But I do remember this," he pulled down the blanket from his bare chest to reveal a bloody bandage wrapped around his middle.

Blair gasped. "Charles, you have no propriety," she reproached, averting her eyes.

He blushed shyly. "I am very sorry." 

Both children looked up as the physician bustled in, Harold at his side. "Blair, could you please wait outside whilst we talk with the boy, and change his bandage?" Harold asked her gently.

"Charles," she corrected. "His name is Charles." She gave Charles a small smile which he returned.

She stood up to go from the room, but Charles, panic flashing slightly in his eyes, whispered, "Please stay..." His almond eyes looked so vulnerable that Blair's heart melted, and she looked beseechingly at her father.

"Very well," he relented. "You may stay."

XXXXXX

From that day, Blair visited Charles every day for the next month after her lessons. She told no one about him, or what they talked about in the confines of the physician's room.

It was a wet, rainy day and Margarite had been in a terrible mood, keeping Blair and extra half hour for her French lesson, despite the young girl's pleas that she had to be elsewhere.

Charles tended to worry when she was late. He didn't show it, but there was a certain relief in the set of his jaw when she approached.

Finally escaping from the overbearing old woman, Blair hurried to the infirmary, only to find his bed empty. "But where is Charles?" She cried worriedly to the physician.

"He has healed satisfactorily. I've released him." He told her.

Blair wondered where he would be. Hurrying towards the area where the children of the court usually played when it was wet, she arrived in time to see Charles, sitting in an armchair by the fire and looking tired, arguing with two other boys.

She walked towards them, hearing one of the boys sneer, "I bet he's not even from the court, he's probably a servant that's snuck in. I've certainly never seen him around here before, have you Avery?"

"Certainly not," the other boy scoffed.

"Gentleman," Blair stepped between then, going to Chuck's chair and laying a hand on the arm. "What are we doing?"

"You Highness," both bowed low to her, and she curtseyed slightly in return. "We were just conversing with this... boy," Avery, the son of a high-ranking official replied.

"Charles," Blair smiled, curtseying to him.

"Blair," he replied, rising from his chair to bow to her.

The boys looked scandalised. "How dare you refer to her Highness so informally!" Damien, the other, gasped, his eyes bulging.

"Never mind about Mr Bass' sense of propriety, that will be fixed later on," Blair tossed out. "What I wish to know with all my heart, gentlemen, is why you were being so cruel to him? _Especially _as he has just recovered from a grave injury."

The two boys exchanged looks. "You are... friends, with this boy, your Highness?" Avery asked hesitantly.

"Indeed I am," Blair smiled at Charles.

"We apologise, Your Highness" they said stiffly, and retreated to the other side of the hall.

Blair turned to Charles, a small frown on her face. "You should have waited for me, I didn't know where you went," she reproached.

A small smile played around his lips. "Sorry, _Blair," _he returned, emphasising his use of her first name.

"Mr Bass," she scolded. "You simply must stop that at once."

"I have called you Blair for the past month, why do you object now?" He looked annoyed.

"Because if you are to stay here and be part of the court, then you shall have to learn proper manners. And you do wish to stay, do you not?" She asked slightly shyly.

"I suppose I do," he murmured.

"Good." She told him firmly. "We will talk with my Father."

Harold, It turned out, had no objection to Charles staying at all. "Well I would hate for my f\daughter to be parted from the first friend she has made," he smiled at the two.

"Charles is not my only friend!" Blair objected.

He shot her a smile that was a little arrogant. "No wonder you came to see me every day."

She glared momentarily at him before turning back to her Father. "I have actually been asking around the families of the court," he told them. "Lady Van Der Woodsen, it seems, would be glad to take you."

"Lady Van Der Woodsen is lovely!" Blair declared. "She is my mother's dearest of friends, and you could not ask for a better Foster Mother!"

"Would you like to meet her?" Harold asked Chuck, who nodded.

"Blair," he paused, glancing up at Harold to make sure he would not b lectured on manners, "Would you... come with me to meet her?"

"Of course!"

XXXXXX

Lillian Van Der Woodsen beamed at Blair, "My Princess, how lovely to see you," she smiled, kissing Blair's cheek.

"And you, Lilly," Blair embraced the woman.

"And you must be Charles..." Lilly smiled kindly at Charles, who wasn't smiling in the slightest.

"Yes," he replied woodenly.

Blair silently rose from her chair and made her way to the door. She wanted Charles and Lilly to bond, and that was best done without her.

Sometime later, Blair was reading quietly by herself in the Royal common room, when Margarite opened the door and pushed Charles inside.

"Blair! You left me!" He said angrily.

"Sorry, Charles." She gave a little toss of her hair. "But it was for the best."

"Well, Lilly-I mean, Lady van Der Woodsen, and I have agreed that she'll adopt me, sort of," he said quietly.

"Charles! That's excellent!" Blair jumped to her feet.

"Chuck," he said suddenly.

"What?"

"Chuck. I want you to call me Chuck."

"Very well then, _Chuck_," she smiled.

**So, this is my introductory paragraph. I always like to set the back story, that's probably why my stories lack real mystery :S**

**Anyway, I hope you liked it.**


	2. PLEASE READ

**OK, guys.**

**I have important news. **

**I've just started year twelve (Senior Year) and I don't have time to be writing all my fics as well as the home-work and assignments I have to do.**

**OI have the time to write two stories, but not the amount I have going. One of these two is going to be my Draco and Hermione story. **

**So, I've created a Poll on my profile, and I'd like you all to vote as to which ONE GG story you think I should focus on. Please, please, PLEASE, vote.**

**XOXO**

**Lissa**


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